Now That You Mention It
Page 64

 Kristan Higgins

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“Well, I don’t agree. I think I should be there. She’s sick.”
“No, she’s been sick, and now she’s recovering. And, man, how happy is she, right?”
This got a smile. Then his eyes got shiny again. “I never really knew how unhappy she was with...you know. Being a little chubby.”
From my limited knowledge of Audrey, I bet she was protecting her dad from her own misery. My admiration for her shot up a notch. Me, I’d bled misery all over the place. It never occurred to me to hide it.
“She adores you,” I said. “The best thing in a girl’s life is a father she can count on.”
Well. Didn’t I sound like a Facebook meme. I felt my face get hot and looked down the street. But Sully nudged my shoulder with his. “Thanks,” he said, a slight smile on his face. “Any luck finding yours, by the way?”
I shook my head.
“How long has it been?” he asked.
“More than twenty years.”
“Jeezum crow.”
The legendary Boston traffic was picking up, so talking wasn’t really an option for people with hearing issues. We walked in silence for a little while. When we hit Thoreau Path, I realized I was heading for home.
My old home. My apartment in the North End.
“Where are we going, anyway?” Sully asked, studying my face so he wouldn’t miss my answer.
“Um...I don’t know. I was on autopilot, I guess.” I flexed my hands, which were tingling. “Want to see where I used to live?”
“Sure. If you want to show me.”
“I haven’t been back there since...since I left.”
Sully took my hand in his. Didn’t say anything.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s go, then.” Brave. Strong. And this time, with a guy who’d spent the morning being brave and strong, as well. I could do this.
It wasn’t the most scenic walk—the ubiquitous Boston construction, the rude drivers, the blaring of horns, the hulking gray Boston Garden. But once we got into the North End, things improved.
I turned onto my street, not quite sure what I was feeling. Nostalgic for the happiness I once had, the simplicity of my life back then, when work and friends were just about all I thought of. Tyrese, the sweet security guard who used to carry spiders out on a piece of paper rather than step on them.
“This is it,” I said, stopping in front of the modern building.
“Nice.”
“It was. It is.”
“You want to go inside?” he asked.
“Sure.”
Now my heart started kicking. The last time I’d walked into this lobby was that day, and breathing was suddenly hard. Sully squeezed my hand. We went in, through the glass doors into the cool lobby with its tiled floors and tasteful lounge.
Tyrese sat behind the desk. He did a double take when he saw me. “Dr. Nora! My God! It’s so good to see you!” He came out and gave me a hug, practically crushing me. When he let me go, his eyes were wet. “Look at you. Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!”
The last time he’d seen me, I’d been wearing Jim Amberson’s bathrobe and smelled like urine and was being carried out by paramedics. “Hey, Tyrese,” I said, and my voice was husky. “This is my friend, Sullivan Fletcher.”
“Great to meet you, man, great to meet you.” Tyrese pumped Sully’s hand. “This lady here, she’s the best.”
Sullivan smiled.
“We were just in the neighborhood, Tyrese,” I said. “Figured I’d stop in and say hi. How are your kids?”
“They’re great. Growing so fast.” He smiled. “It’s so good to see you, Doc.”
“It’s good to see you, too.” I hesitated. “Is anyone in my apartment?”
He gave a half nod. “They repainted it and put in new cameras on the exterior, so nothing like that would ever happen again. A couple lives there now. Nice enough.”
“Good. I loved that place.” I took a breath. “Well, tell the Ambersons hi for me, okay?”
“I will. You take care, Doc. Take good care.” He hugged me again, and Sully and I left.
“Let’s get you back to the hospital,” I said.
He looked at me a long minute, then nodded. Took my hand again, and graciously didn’t say anything as the tears slipped out of my eyes.
When we got back to the hospital lobby, I walked over to the elevator with him. “I’m gonna try to catch the six o’clock ferry,” I said. It was just five now.
“Okay.”
A man of few words. We got off on the surgical floor and went to Audrey’s room.
“Hi, Daddy!” she said. She looked refreshed—no one looks great immediately after having surgery. Now her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she had a dinner tray in front of her.
“Hi, baby,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead.
“How do you feel, Audrey?” I asked.
“Fine. Excellent.” She beamed.
“Poe said to say hi, and she’ll see you back home.”
Audrey beamed even more. “I know! She texted me.”
“Maybe we can have another sleepover when you feel up to it.”
“Sure! That’d be great!” My heart squeezed at her enthusiasm. I loved this kid, no doubt.
“Okay, I should get going,” I said. “Call me if you need me, okay? You, too, Sullivan.”
He gave a nod and followed me out into the hallway. “You want to go out with me when we get back and Audrey’s feeling better?”
“On a date?”
“On a date.” The corner of his mouth pulled up.
All the reasons I had for not dating Sullivan Fletcher seemed to evaporate. My mouth was suddenly dry. “Okay. Yes. Sure. Yeah.” I took a breath and told myself to calm down. “Now that I’ve given you four affirmative answers, I think I can go.”
His smile widened.
“Bye, Sully. Thanks for today.”
“Bye, Nora. Thank you for today.”
I smiled all the way back to the ferry. And halfway to Maine, too.
21
On the following Thursday, I convinced Gloria and Xiaowen to come to hug therapy with me. I’d seen a flyer at Lala’s that morning and almost choked on my coffee. Hug Therapy from Hug Therapist Sharon Stuart, HT (for Hug Therapist, I presumed). All Are Welcome. Hugging Only, No Groping. 7 p.m. It must be serious if it cut into Wheel of Fortune time.
Mom’s little project, which she wouldn’t discuss with me, had mushroomed, apparently. She had to relocate to the basement of St. Mary’s of the Sea Catholic Church, where we all now stood, waiting for the recovering addicts—Luke not among them—to trickle out.
Poe was here as well, suffering mightily as demonstrated by heaving sighs and the gnawing of her fingernails. “Why are you here?” she asked. “I had to come to collect money, but you’re free and adults. You should be drinking cocktails somewhere.”
“Hear, hear,” murmured Xiaowen. “Then again, the pageantry, the splendor that is hug therapy.”
“Your mom is clearly onto something,” Gloria said. “There must be thirty people here.”
It was true. Not just Bob Dobbins looking for thrills, but Mrs. Krazinski, Mrs. Downs of the resting bitch face and a bunch of summer nuisance, looking for quaint thrills.
And also Amy (a regular, it seemed), who gave me a little wave but stayed on her side of the basement. I knew Audrey was back on the island; Sully had brought her in for a checkup today. He’d left with that half smile that did things to my girl parts and a call-you-soon parting message.